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                ONLY A MAN CAN PLEASURE A MAN.

 

walking into the premises of Olunloyo and Sons Chambers this chilly Monday morning, I silently prayed for a miracle.

 

I had taken up Franco’s idea of speaking with his uncle who was a Lawyer and a big man in politics. Franco had mentioned that he could pull strings for me. He might know someone, who knew someone that knew the families of the deceased.

 

As I walked towards the glass doors of the magnificent building, I continuously asked the Holy Spirit to grant me utterances and drive away any foul spirit that would make my pleas fall on deaf ears.

 

                                                                   ***

 

Life just had a troublesome way of messing people up.

 

 As I sat here smoking my last blunt and chatting on Instagram with an Italian heiress, who was in love with me, with the man I used my profile picture, actually, on the cost of a new machine to successfully execute my contract job, I could still hear the agitation in Tshezi’s voice as he had called to tell me that he was arrested. That was yesterday,  No! The day before or Maybe last week sef. I am really bad at remembering the dates of events past

 

My plan that night had been simple: Kill Scorpion put for Pepper neck. Not tying an innocent up.

 

Nothing would hurt more than having the death of one’s best friend on one’s head, even if it was a lie. Pepper had stepped on the tail of the Tiger and wouldn’t move because he was scared it would pounce on him. He forgot that the more pain the tiger endured, the more ferocious it became.

 

2 months ago, he came to me and asked to join my office and hustle hard, like the other boys I have been doing. I had taken up his offer immediately, giving him the rules and regulations of the office and a list of what to get. He was a bright young man. He quickly caught up on the process of things and a week later, a client paid him 120,000 Euros. The woman in question had sold her house to get the money.

 

Problem stated when it was time to share the money. It was to be divided in a 50:50 ratio but I became greedy and wanted it to be 70:30, the greater part belonging to me. He had politely declined and tried reminding me of our initial agreement. When he saw I would have none of that and threatened to seize the whole amount, he became wild. 3 days later, our office was raided by soldiers, confam Nigerian Soldiers. He had gone to report me. 16 of my boys ran away with my laptops, containing prospective clients. I lost millions that day because of Pepper. I was given the beating of my life and asked to transfer the money to him at 70:30 but this time, the greater part would be his. Fortunately, the phone I used for transfers was left lying around and had been destroyed by the soldiers in the heat of their raid. I promised to do the transfer at a later date and they left after giving me a stern warning not to try anything stupid with him. But my greed persisted and a week later another raid and extra beating. This time I was stripped, flogged and humiliated in my own territory by my own boy. To make matters worse, he threatened to tell everyone that I was homosexual and also tell them about my affair, so he called it, with Tshezi. This time, I sent him a fraction of his share with a promise to top it up in a few days to keep him from spilling and ruining my social image. He continued to threaten me with soldiers and my shitty romance with Tshezi every now and then.

 

At no point in my life have I ever doubted my sexuality. I am a straight man who enjoys variety. I pride myself in my ability to fuck a man like a man and handle a woman like a man should, leave bisexuality for bisexuals. Whatever I do with my hard penis shouldn’t define me. What I have with Tshezi is just to show how much he trusts me and my superiority over him. It is the normal assistance guys under the influence render their horny homie. Scorpion had once given me a good head under the influence and we had looked over it as nothing by morning. It should remain like that and never come out into the public. And as long as I have never been penetrated, I am not gay.

 

I am straight! Straight!! STRAIGHT!!!

 

But then again, why does it seem like I am trying so hard to convince myself of my sexuality? I constantly have had to give myself reasons why I like pussy. Or is that why I should like it? I know Tshezi has feelings for me and I have often capitalized on those feelings when asking him for money or a favor. Does playing with the affections of a gay man not make you gay? In my whole life, I have never fucked anyone else as much as I have fucked Tshezi. It is like his soft, tight and creamy anal orifice is custom made for me.  I really enjoy every second he spends pleasuring my body. His touch is electrifying, he knows the exact place to touch at the exact time. He takes his time searching for news spots on my body to heighten my pleasure. The way he throws away all inhibitions during sex dey burst my mind.

 

Indeed, only a man can pleasure a man.

 

 I would have loved to have him for keeps but what would people say?  How would my friends react? I can’t tell my parents that I have chosen to spend my life with a man. My father, a retired policeman, would be the first to arrest me. My mom would have trouble keeping it a secret. Soon enough, family members would claim that every problem they were facing was a result of my cursed ways. Trust Ijebu people na.

 

I sighed.

 

I began cooking other methods to get him Scorpion off the picture. I didn’t want him to die mysteriously as that would put me at risk. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to know the agony of gaining victory and not tasting it. He had to be alive and healthy but unable to access this money… How?

 

 By putting him in a place where he would never get out or getting him killed as a criminal.

 

 A murder case.

 

 I fit go dey carry rice dey give am once once inside prison, I thought, but that would depend on if he didn’t get a death sentence.

 

I had changed my mind and killed them myself after I saw both of them fucking Tshezi, my boy toy, like two horny hyenas. This wasn’t my intention from the onset as you now know.

 

My conscience had begun to prick me at the way I dismissed him because he wanted a break. I tried to call him to apologize and ask him to come back but his line was dead. My only option was to go after them. They hadn’t made it far when I spotted them from behind on my bike. I decided to follow them, allow them to drop him and leave before I went after him. Alone.

 

                                                        ***

 

I opened the heavy mahogany door to Dr. Olunloyo’s office and walked in.

 

“Good morning, Sir”, I greeted, feigning excitement. “My name is Tshezi Tenumah and I am…”

 

“…a gay friend to my gay nephew”, he interrupted. He sat like a powerful mage, with gray hair. “You are here because you need my help getting yourself out of the bloody mess, which you, of course, stupidly plunged yourself into”, he said, without lifting his head from the pile of documents on his table. I could hear the dry sarcasm in his voice resound powerfully.

 

I’ve not known this man for up to ten minutes and he is gradually revealing plans of shading the living daylight out of my already battered body. Beautiful. Just beautiful.

 

“Please sit at the table opposite the right wall in my inner chamber”, he commanded, pointing to the door at his left. “Do not make yourself too comfortable”.

 

I slowly walked to where he directed. I opened the door in a small, dimly lit room with one window. My eyes adjusted to the light and I saw it wasn’t any room. It was a lounge.  A complete lounge with sound proof walls, a mini bar, a powerful sound system and a large bed with white sheets.

 

Girl, you have just walked into another fuck session.

 

Just the other day, curiosity got the better of Joseph and I was slurping on his engorged 7 inches through the gate of my cell. I had his thick cum down my throat in no time. I am sure he would have fucked me if not for that gate. Now this. Men are something else.

 

But people get money sha o. Look at this mini heaven, safely hidden beneath the guise of a lawyer’s chambers. You might also be wondering how I had gotten out of my cell, a change of clothes and went to go see a lawyer. This same man had pulled strings.

 

I sat on the bed, discarding his warning of not getting comfortable. I took off the scarf I had wrapped my face with and the heavy shades I wore to conceal my swollen left eye.

 

He walked in and shut the door.

 

He was tall and dark with a chiseled face. judging by the way his white shirt clung to his frame, he had a cut body. One could easily tell that this man was in his mid-fifties but my guy, e dey enter eye.

 

He stood there, inclining his awesome physique against the door. “A penny for your thoughts”, he said.

 

“Make it ten thousand naira and you’d have my guts on your table”, I replied.

 

We both laughed. His laughter sha.

 

“I am sorry for how I spoke to you earlier. If you were in my shoes and saw the way members of our community behaved, you’d be disgusted”.

 

Our community? He saw the question in my eyes.

 

“Yes, Tshezi, our community. I am a member”. He paused.  “Do you know that the silly and risky way of life of the younger generation is what has made the older and wiser generation abandon you and never actively participate in queer movements or anything LGBTQIA here in Nigeria?

 

I pondered about it.

 

                                     KNOWLEDGE IS POWER.

 

I pondered over it.

“Look at it like this. You are not only charged for murder, there is homosexuality on it. Imagine you had not wanted to prove you were a master of your game and had quickly walked home, as you did later on, would you be in this mess? What if you had taken everyone’s advice from the beginning and stayed away from that boy? You’d be in class receiving lectures now. Do you get what I’m saying now?”

I was following his point.

“A vast majority of young ones are willing to risk a lot for a minute or two of excitement. For cheap thrills that would yield no importance by the time you are 30”. By now, he was walking towards me. “You and a thousand of others are on this boat that is bound to sink. In your first 5 years on the road of 20, you are as bright as a new pin. Hopes, dreams and aspirations soar as high as anything else. The world is yours to dominate and paint in whatever color pleases you. You are anxious to try out everything and give reviews, like a critic of some sort. In the next 5, a little disappointment here and there, a handful of regrets but you are going at it harder than you ever thought you could. Now, your looks, the sex and the enhancers you use are at its peak. You are termed ‘Hotter than the hottest’. By 30, a few are wise enough to retrace their steps. Others merely leave it all in the hands of fate and start adapting to their wasted lives. Having broken promises, unemployment, zero savings, an incurable disease and unfilled dreams as companions”.

He looked me dead in the eyes before continuing, “Tell me what you think would happen by 35 and 40”.

For more than 25 second, silence could clearly be heard. I shook my head, a sign that I didn’t have an answer to his question.

“I thought you were one of the bright ones”, he said before giving a slow hiss. Ouch! That hurt.

“By 35 or 40, as a result of bad decisions and choices we made in the heat of youthful exuberance, we are led to believe that it all ends there. Gone the gleam and glitter of the old life, it could never really satisfy, we say to ourselves but why would one call his taste of complete freedom, his chance of unhinged fun and enjoyment an old life and choose fear and insecurity as the new normal?”, he asked.

Again, I couldn’t produce an answer.

“I will tell you why”, he continued. “We took our minds off what mattered at the time they mattered and decided to enjoy life for a while and in that unguarded moment, we missed it. Do you understand?”, he queried.

To an extent, I did. I understand the part where you just want to relax, let go and allow the life carry you go where you nor know simply because you are young and have enough time. I was at loss on how things could go extremely wrong for a young adult who had sufficient time on his side. Time is the healer of all wounds. Is there a damage so lethal that it would be unable to rectify?

It’s like he read my thoughts.

“Time, son, is the biggest enemy of daylight success. I say that because among other things, time is the most constant. It is ready whether you are or not. Even the bible clearly stated it: “…while men slept, the enemy came and planted tares among their wheat”. Who do you think is the enemy there? Time is. Our thinking faculty has been so corrupted that we think night is time for rest and sleep, who propounded that theory?”

I looked at him, utterly confused now.

He smiled before continuing. “By daylight success, I mean results without any shortcut. An 18year old desires to be financially stable before 23. The only distance between him and his dream is time. Time, his greatest enemy, has a lot to say in his success, if spent wisely. To live comfortably in Nigeria as queer, you need two things: Knowledge and money. Both of them take what to acquire?”

“Time”, I replied with realization.

Time was what our community was lacking. Not love or unity. Time, a natural force against every form of human activity. That same time we claim to have in abundance as an excuse to flenjo and chop life is the same time we do not have to wait to carefully sift our thoughts and weigh our decisions. This is our poison.

Are we willing to patiently acquire what would profit us till death? Are we willing to, individually, procure a permanent antidote to all this harassment and societal debasement? Talk about education, there are queer people who have certificates yet are thoroughly uneducated as regards societal norms, behavioral patterns and societal coping skills. There are some, like me, who are ready to abandon school and everything else for the sugar stick between another man’s legs. What of those who abandoned education in search of money only to end up seeking it in the wrong places? Students and promising young adults, men and women alike, turning porn stars and prostitutes overnight. A lot of them prostituting just for the pleasures of sticking an erect organ down an already gaping hole, not for the money. Picking up diseases, risking life and property and swallowing acts of dehumanization with hopes that their hustle would pay one day. We have abandoned the main route to outstanding success because we were unwilling to wait. A lot of us have dabbled into one nonsense and another, into another and others to come because of shortcuts. Kito incidents are on the high rise today because its victims do not have enough time to get an education, strategize and build a business from scratch or learn a trade. They only have enough time to travel and receive hardcore beatings from the hands of unknown men.  The perpetrators have expertly learnt their trade as they have now opened offices on the heads of seemingly innocent gay men with blackmail.

Who gave them the rights to abuse and mistreat us, again? We did. Not the government and their unrealistic laws. Not religion with its continuous problem of double standards. Not our families who’d gladly offer us up as living sacrifices to our society to tear into pieces. Not our straight friends, their phobias and inability to keep secrets. We stooped to their level by abstaining from vital and much needed information and the unwillingness to be content in leading a simple life even at the verge of losing years of hard work. Some queer people do not even know about their Fundamental Human Rights not to talk of living without trying to impose your ways and tastes on those around them.

Knowledge is really power for a gay man living in Nigeria.

“We now conform to standards society has set for us, hiding like lepers and continually debasing ourselves for our own rights. We even advice our kind not to dream of breaking free of their confines. We mock the ones who dare violate the ‘codes of life’ to stupor”.

He turned to me and like a father scolding a child, he continued, “Look at you, forcing yourself on a man who claims to be straight and has no iota of affection for you. Have gay men finished?  Have you even considered the risk you are putting yourself and others into? Did you even pause to think about your emotional stability and mental health in the process? If the issue was you couldn’t find your spec in your immediate surroundings, have you considered working on yourself to become another man’s spec? We all have eyes for an already made man. No one is willing to work another queer person into perfection”. He shook his head sternly, before sitting on the bed.

“We are the Elites. We are everything they struggle to be: The boldness that emanates from being different. Confident. Resilient. Hot, wild and unhinged. Strong. Supportive. Intelligent. Shy, yet we speak in volumes with our actions. Sharp and witty. The real Fashion killers. But mismanagement of time and desire to quickly make it through wrong processes is ravaging us like an infection inside out”.

“Where do you see yourself by the time you are 28”, he threw at me.

Me sef never reason that matter o. “I really don’t know. That is 7 years from now”. He chuckled at my reply.

“I heard your late mother left you a fortune. What methods are you putting in place to make sure you are not broke, stranded and running around dirty corners of the street at late hours to earn a living by 25?”, he retorted.

“Emmm…I…I was… I was… I am thinking of going into… into a business when I am 24”, I lied.

He laughed. Long, deep and hollow. “It is not too late for you now. Do what you must before you miss it”.

At this point, I honestly wish we would all examine our lives, at whatever point it is now, consider that which Is of extreme importance and begin working toward it.

You really don’t have to consider anything, if you ask me. If at 26, as a male sex worker, you do not have, at least, N20,000 relaxing in your account after doing all your expenditure monthly, isn’t your assignment clear enough?

 

 

          Written By:

             FitGiant

 

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